Chapter 511: Martial Skills Are So Strong? Then Let's Compare Swordsmanship

At such a moment, Gabriel could no longer care about any agreements of three strikes, letting out a long, resonant roar as he gripped the greatsword in his hands with a deathly clutch.

The earth fractured and collapsed, a violent tremor that every single soul present could deeply feel.

Gabriel had long since been entirely submerged within this vast, surging rain of swords.

The turbulent sword-winds whipped up a tempest of ferocious fury, leaving nothing but a vista of absolute devastation in sight.

"Did that guy get beaten to death?" Mo Xian muttered in a low whisper from the spectator stands.

"He was so arrogant before; if he gets killed now in a single strike, who else is there to blame?" Yue Yan said quietly, taking a sip of her iced red tea.

At this moment, even the several family heads who had logged on from the Haotian Academy and other clans to watch, along with the elders of the Black Dragon, Red Dragon, and Frost Dragon clans from the Western Polar Region, all rose from their seats in unison.

Where Gabriel had stood, nothing remained but a wasteland of ruins.

A chaotic tangle of blades plunged crosswise into the fissures of the earth like jagged, interlocking teeth, the shattered ground sinking entirely to form a colossal sword crater.

As the dust finally settled, everyone craned their necks, peering toward the very center of the crater.

"Hahaha... Hahaha!" Suddenly, a burst of maniacal laughter echoed from within the depths of the pit.

A figure drenched completely in blood could be seen kneeling on one knee at the center of the crater.

Gabriel slowly lifted his face, which was entirely covered in dragon scales, his greatsword propping up his body as he miraculously refused to fall.

Behind Luo Piaoling, an old man clad in black armor with a grizzled, yellowish-brown beard spoke: "Why did you not step in to stop it?"

"This brat is tough as nails, he won't die that easily." Luo Piaoling took a deep breath, seemingly still processing the situation that had so thoroughly defied their expectations. "In truth, I could not believe either that a cultivator from the Desolate Sea Region could be strong to such an extent."

Andre rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on: "This ought to be their absolute limit, right?"

"It ought to... be..." Luo Piaoling himself had grown somewhat uncertain.

Had it been in the past, he would have surely given an affirmative answer, but now even his resolve was shaken.

"Hahaha!" A chorus of laughter erupted from the elders and young disciples of the Frost Dragon clan as well.

"We truly did not misjudge this boy!"

"The warriors of our Western Polar Region are invincible!"

"Whatever moves you have left, feel free to bring them on!"

However, at this juncture, both sides were already on the verge of total exhaustion; what moves could they possibly have left to unleash?

Gabriel currently did not even possess the strength to stand on his own feet.

He could only recover his breath where he knelt.

Liang Heihu was in the exact same state; executing the Ten Thousand Swords Returning to Ancestor twice in a row, with the second time being on such a monumental scale, had long emptied the inner qi within his body, leaving him gasping heavily for air.

Ever since achieving the mastery of the Ten Thousand Swords Returning to Ancestor, he had never encountered such a formidable enemy.

"I admit that you cultivators of the Desolate Sea Region are indeed very strong," Gabriel said coldly, "but I will not lose!"

He was seen pulling an exquisite crystal bottle from his storage artifact, the crimson liquid inside shimmering brightly beneath the sunlight through the translucent glass.

"Is that... Dragon Blood Essence?!" Several youths of the Frost Dragon clan beside Fang Qi cried out in shock.

"That is a sacred relic that can only be consumed by warriors who have mastered the Demon Dragon Body! Even if one's head is severed from their body, it can be used to prolong life!"

"Gabriel is guaranteed to win!"

Beside them, Xiya also let out a long sigh of relief, never expecting the cultivators of the Desolate Sea Region to be so devastatingly powerful that they could batter Gabriel into such a state across a whole major realm of cultivation.

But in the end, the warriors of the Western Polar Region were still going to emerge victorious.

"Despicable!"

"Shameless!"

"Drinking potions during a friendly sparring exchange?!"

Even Mu Qing, sitting behind Jiang Xiaoyuan, cursed in anger: "How can anyone be so utterly flagrant?!"

The brown-haired youth of the Frost Dragon clan nearby retorted immediately: "This match never laid down a rule forbidding potions?! Furthermore, this is inherently an item that complements his Demon Dragon Body, why should he not use it?"

Liang Heihu was stunned on the spot, then looked around at the crowd: "This is allowed?"

"Though it was an oversight on my part," Guo Tingyun said, "since there is no such rule, it is naturally permissible."

"Hahaha!" Several warriors of the Frost Dragon clan burst into loud laughter at once. "Who says it isn't allowed?"

"This infuriates me to death!" Jiang Xiaoyuan stamped her feet in pure rage. "How can it be like this?!"

Li Lanyuo and the rest of the girls also bore faces full of indignation.

Gabriel was so severely wounded that he definitely would have given out first, and victory seemed to be right within their grasp, yet it was turning out to be such an ending?!

But the scene that unfolded next left everyone utterly dumbfounded.

Liang Heihu was seen pulling a bottle of iced red tea out from his storage artifact, twisting open the cap, and taking two deep gulps.

"Ah—!" Extremely delicious.

Then he stood up and walked forward.

At this time Gabriel had not yet recovered, watching helplessly as the other man approached him.

A single strike of fiery blaze.

"Argh—!"

With a miserable shriek, Gabriel pitched forward, collapsing directly into the sword crater.

The smiles on the faces of the Frost Dragon clan elders froze instantly.

Their faces turned entirely black with rage, nearly driving them to jump up and curse.

"Quick! Go down and check on him!"

"Quickly feed him a Dragon Blood Pill!"

A flurry of frantic chaos ensued.

The players from the Desolate Sea Region and the Haotian Academy:

"Hahaha!"

"Awesome!"

"6666!"

"Is Dragon Blood Essence that big a deal? Have you asked our iced red tea?!"

The warriors of the Western Polar Region were completely stupefied.

How on earth could something like this happen?!

"Cheating! This is cheating!" An elder of the Frost Dragon clan jumped up and down in fury. "In a sparring match, the consumption of potions should be strictly forbidden!"

"I didn't drink a potion," Liang Heihu said, holding out the iced red tea. "I just drank a beverage, it tastes great, do you want a sip?"

"..." The urge to commit murder instantly flared.

Was this a mere beverage?!

In the end, under the joint protest of several elders from the Frost Dragon clan, this sparring match, in the spirit of a friendly exchange of martial arts, banned both the drinking of potions and the drinking of beverages.

Thea could not help but knit her brows: "Elder Lu Mingwei, you are the most familiar with Lingzhou. Have you ever heard of martial artists from the Desolate Sea region before?"

"Never heard of them," spoke Lu Mingwei, an elder of the Red Dragon Clan. "This old man visited Lingzhou just the year before last, and even then, there was no mention of any martial artists from the Desolate Sea."

"..." If no one had ever heard of them, how could they possibly be this formidable?!

It was a riddle that defied all reason, racking their brains to no avail.

By now, however, the gathered martial artists of the Western Polar region had clearly come to realize that this Desolate Sea region might not be as simple as they had previously imagined.

With a mere two combatants coming forward, they had unleashed two entirely different martial techniques, each one earth-shattering and profound.

Even seeing it now with their own eyes, they found it somewhat difficult to believe.

To put it in perspective, their Western Polar region claimed to possess the strongest martial artists, yet perhaps only the Blood Dragon Martial Emperor himself was worthy of learning techniques of such a sublime caliber.

And yet, the Desolate Sea had produced two such figures in one go, both belonging to the younger generation.

Was it merely that the Desolate Sea had chanced upon two exceptional geniuses, or...?

Deliberations aside, resentment was inevitable; after all, only a few of the younger generation had suffered a setback, which was hardly enough to strike terror into their hearts.

There was still the older generation, was there not?

With the geniuses of the younger generation suffering successive defeats, the blow to their prestige was simply too humiliating to bear.

Not far from Fang Qi, an old man stood up, clad in a voluminous robe of white satin whose style was entirely distinct from that of Lingzhou, resembling an elegant elder from the West, and spoke a few words in the Western Polar tongue.

Thea translated, "This is Elder Tchaikovsky. He says he wishes to contest with you in the art of swordsmanship."

To contest in swordsmanship meant, by definition, to set aside martial techniques.

The swordsmanship wielded by the martial artists of the Western Polar region was inherited from a distant antiquity, a collection of combat skills forged by their ancestors on the precipice of life and death while battling all manner of ferocious beasts amidst the bitterly cold, snow-capped mountains, refined through countless years and passed down from generation to generation.

Your martial techniques are powerful? Then we shall not compete in techniques, nor speak of ultimate secret arts!

We shall contest in swordsmanship! They refused to believe they could lose a second time!

Utterly unyielding and defiant, they insisted on another match.